He's an old-fashioned guy in this one thing, and I think I love him a little more for it. His jeans are all buttons. Nothing zips or slides around his package, and I like to open the brass buttons one by one, my hands all over the emerging snake. He likes to wear smallish briefs underneath, and his cock peeks from the top as it realises we're going to play.

The cabin really isn't.

We called it that. The family. Hell, I still call it that. But it isn't. It's sort of an apartment at best, on top of an old concrete garage. But I love it.

The cabin is an almost square box of boring grey concrete, with large, inappropriate multi-pane windows. Sets of nine green wooden frames that somehow fit with the industrial vibe outside. A small wooden deck sits at the back of the box, with outside stairs down to the real world.

Through the big windows you can see the whole of the interior. An old red sofa rescued from sure destruction and faded even more over the years. A big bed. Too big really, for the room. A tub, toilet and basin, missing the thin curtain that was used to pretend at privacy in the early days. A small kitchen bench and minimal storage, all genuinely distressed green, and none closing quite the way it should. An ancient cooker and a bulbous forties fridge provide a white contrast to the green and red almost-Christmas tones.

When I was a kid I played in here. I escaped from the stresses of childhood and the expectations of the family. I played with the furniture, such as it was. Played with the kitchen. Played with the possibilities, with my dreams, with the future. Okay, played with myself.

When my parents died the rest of the family wanted to sell the property. I was appalled, and they didn't understand. In the end, we managed a compromise. I sold the house and kept the garage. Lost the stress and kept the dream.

I've never lived in the cabin. It's not that liveable on its own. Yes, it has the necessaries. Plumbing and power, heating and drains. But it's not set up that way, and I don't want to change it.

So when the complications of life in the city become too much, and the relationships become too worn, and the weekend beckons, I escape. I leave the bustle and drive to my garage, and spend the weekend in the cabin.

Always quiet, the cabin enfolds me, and I can be at peace, listening to jazz and blues records on the old turntable, sipping wine in the armchair, masturbating peacefully in the big old fluffy bed, or even in the deep clawfoot tub that was evicted from the house decades ago.

So it's with some surprise that I find myself inviting Ethan to share my cabin for a few days.

"Oh, that's... My God, Sandy, it's wonderful."

"Good approach."

"No, really. I thought maybe you were overselling it... but it's gorgeous."

"Thank God. No, just put those down there. There's nowhere else."

"Do we need anything more from the car?"

"Not now. What we need is a glass of wine, Ethan."

"I like the way you think. Can I help?"

"Yeah, plant yourself on the sofa. I've got it. Need to turn a few things on in the kitchen."

"What kitchen?"

"Just here. This is the kitchen."

"So over there. That's the bathroom?"

"You need to go?"

"No, no. Just wondering about... you know... when I do."

"Just go. I warned you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Look, if you don't like it..." I trail off, watching his face.

"No, it's just..." He grins. "It's going to take a few minutes."

"At least."

"Yeah."

I close the fridge, having added some more wine to the random collection, and turn back to him. "I need to tell you something, Ethan."

"What's that?"

He looks so comfortable on the old sofa that instead of taking my usual seat in the armchair I hand him a glass and pile in beside him, still chilly as the heating hasn't caught up yet. "I... I've never brought anyone back here before."

"Never?"

"Nope. Not even when I was a kid."

"What, no teen fumblings?"

"Not here. Dad caught me a few times with a boy in the house, and once with a girl, but that's a different story."

"Were you a bad girl then?"

"Medium."

"So why not in here? It's clearly perfect."

"It's not. Zero privacy in here. There aren't even any drapes."

"Oh. Yeah, didn't notice that. Why not?"

"Never seemed to be a need when I was a kid, and now I hate to change anything."

"But... what about - well, the bath for instance?"

"I just ignore it all. Carry on the same."

"Can't the neighbours see you?"

"Only the ones in the main house. It's been a while. I assume they just don't look."

"Of course they look, Sandy. You're gorgeous."

"You're just saying that," and I snuggle closer, "because you want to get into my panties."

"No, that's not it. I mean, I do, but it's just a little... weird."

I hop up again. "Just a second."

"No, no. Sit down. I didn't mean..."

Grinning at him I wave my arm "Relax. Undo a few buttons. Chill." I head back to the kitchen.

"Now what are you doing?"

The drawer I'm searching through has some matches in it somewhere, and I scrabble around to find them before lighting a few random candles, flicking off the main lights, and standing in front of him. "Still worried?"

"Not so much..." The room has a warm glow from the candles I've lit, and it's romantic and cosy somehow.

"That thing about my panties..." He's looking up at me now, as I hoist my dress up to my waist, and wriggle out of the slinky black things. "These are city panties anyway. We don't need them."

Ethan gapes at me, and then speaks. "Is it the air, or what? You're not like this at my place. You climb into bed, and keep yourself covered up."

"It's different here. Can't you tell?" My newly bare ass lands beside him, nearly spilling both glasses of wine. "Whoops. Not even drunk."

"Give it here."

"Not finished."

"Kiss me, then."

I snuggle down beside him, and bend towards his face. He plucks the wine glass from my hand without a word and puts both it and his own glass carefully on the floor, then turns and gives me his full attention.

I'm not sure exactly what it is that attracts me to Ethan. He's not tall, or sharp, or anything specific, but somehow we fit together in all the ways that matter, and I can relax with him like no one else. In fact, in a number of ways, this is the final test. If he can fit in with my hideaway, he's pretty much perfect.

The cabin's warming up nicely and I decide I don't want this to take forever, so I pull Ethan down so he's more or less on his back, with just his head up on the sofa arm. He had time to swing by his place on his way to pick me up tonight, so he's in his jeans, and I love to get him out of them.

He's an old-fashioned guy in this one thing, and I think I love him a little more for it. His jeans are all buttons. Nothing zips or slides around his package, and I like to open the brass buttons one by one, my hands all over the emerging snake. He likes to wear smallish briefs underneath, and his cock peeks from the top as it realises we're going to play.

Moving back for a moment on the sofa I peel the denim off his ass, and slide his jeans down his legs, throwing them to the floor - barely missing one of the wine glasses.

Giggling, I return to his thighs, my thumbs sliding up the sides of the obvious bulge before caressing him with my fingertips and eliciting a low groan from his throat.

He grabs my face and pulls me down for another kiss. "You can't keep doing that, you know. I'll make a mess on your dress."

"Just don't get the sofa. I might invite someone else here one day." I pull back from the kiss, and lift the pale cloth of his briefs down off his cock. "Oh, look at that. Maybe we should try not to make too much mess." I haul the briefs down his legs and throw them over the back of the sofa.

All Ethan can manage is a grunt as I take his cock in my hands. It's not overly large I don't think, but certainly adequate to the task, and there a slight bow that makes it just the right shape for me. I think I love Ethan. I know I love his cock.

I grin at him then, my thumb and forefinger encircling him and sliding gently back and forth. "Inside or out?"

"In," he whispers, his body strangely still. "Please".

Shuffling him a little on the big sofa, I straddle his hips, my knees bent. He knows I have no panties on, and as I push myself down to touch him I can feel his cock pressing against me. He's a friendly guy and a familiar fuck, but having him here is like it's a whole new thing, and I know I'm dripping wet as I rub myself against the underside of him.

I can tell I don't need to wait any longer, so I wriggle around to get in the right position. Leaning forward a little I can feel the solid tip of him against me, my moisture sliding over the surface of him. Sliding back a little I can feel I've captured him, his width spreading me gently, the meeting slippery and warm.

Just a little more pressure and he pops inside, his width delightful, his hardness a wonderful invasion. I slide down the length of him, enjoying his groan and the feeling of his skin sliding with a tight slipperiness against my own.

I sit up again then, with him deep inside me, and take a look at the silly grin on his face. "Wanna fuck?" I say to him. Our pet phrase that begins so many of our conversations.

He grins again and nods his head.

I lift myself up, loving the feeling of him sliding away, then push back down quickly, feeling full again immediately. Ethan's not moving at all just now. I know why that is too. If he has one fault it's that he's a little quick, but he does his very best to overcome it, and I love him for the effort.

The fact is, I can never come like this, just with a cock, even in this position. I need a little help. Nothing drastic, just a finger or two applying pressure to my clit. I'm happy to do it, and Ethan loves to watch. This time, he can't really see anyway, though I'm sure his memory gives him plenty of clues. The candles don't provide more than a warm glow in the room, and besides I still have my dress on.

We're moving together slowly now, my body lifting from him and his cock before being impaled again, our action smooth and familiar. My hands lift my dress up and find their familiar way too. Fingertips slide down over my belly, tickling my navel a little on the way past, sliding over my mound and my sparse pubic thatch. My clit is more than ready, peeking out and asking for attention, and I start stroking without much thought, one finger sliding around and over the little nub, a finger from the other hand slipping down around Ethan's cock, his girth more apparent this way, and the slippery hardness wonderful in my hand.

This usually takes much more concentration, but I can feel how close I am, and after a glimpse at Ethan's face I close my eyes, concentrating on the hardness inside me, and the feeling of my fingertip on my clit.

I slow down the movements, somehow needing to be able to believe what's happening a little more, and I can feel myself getting there, and open my eyes briefly to look at Ethan's face again. His eyes are wide, and looking for my sign. I nod, and he groans, as his body thrusts beneath me, all thought of delay gone from his mind, and he releases himself deep inside me, groaning almost with pain.

The speed, the pressure, the heat and the sound, the finger tip on the edge of my clit and the eruption deep within me are too much, and I climax as well, a deep guttural groan escaping my throat as my fingers move frantically across my clit. Then I suddenly stop, too sensitive for more touching, and a feeling of escape flows through me, almost as though I'm watching myself come. I shudder deeply, and Ethan's cock responds with another pulse, setting me off again, and then him.

Slowly the muscles calm down, and the ability to breathe returns to us both. I fall on his chest, black dress still crumpled around my waist, and we both sigh with contentment.

---

Of course a few minutes later I'm feeling thoroughly energised, and Ethan's about to fall asleep, so I hop off him, letting his cock slide at least a little gracefully from my protection, and stand in front of the sofa, stretching my muscles and rubbing my knees before standing up straight and hauling the little black dress up and over my head. I'm surprised the bra lasted this long. Ethan's usually quite interested in breasts, and I'm not at all opposed to him investigating them. I flex my shoulders, enjoying the freedom, and look down at him lying there.

"You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I've fucked tonight, you know."

"No way you fucked anyone else tonight buddy, or you would have lasted a little longer, and you know it."

"Okay, this week."

"Just as well. No one wants to be last week's best fuck."

"That as well."

"Christ we might as well get married then."

"Well, it's not like I haven't asked!"

"You're always either drunk or about to pull my pants down though. You need to ask in a romantic setting. Dinner and all that stuff. Champagne."

"You could have told me all that the first time."

"It would have seemed like encouragement, Ethan."

"And it's not?"

"It's not supposed to seem like it is."

"I don't understand."

"Good."

"Love your hair."

See that? I'm standing in the glow of the candles, stark naked, freshly fucked, and he's only interested in my hair. He did confess early on that the fact I'm a strawberry blonde featured in his having the balls to ask me out. That and the freckles. I've hated those, mostly, but if Ethan likes them... well, maybe they're not so bad. "Drapes or carpet?" This is another standard volley.

"Carpet. But later. You really look especially nice in the candlelight, you know."

"You look like a lazy, beer-swilling womaniser."

"I am."

"You were drinking wine."

"Oh, yeah. Hand me my glass, will you?"

"You just want me to bend over."

"Later I will. Just now I want the glass. Oh, God, your ass is lovely, too."

"Told you so."

"Quiet, woman. I'm drinking. The womanising happens after."

---

Memories rumble through my head. The first feel of a cock in my hand. The gentle persuasion of my first time with a girl. The controlled, calculated strumming of my clit with my own fingertips.

The strength and durability of a real man. The temptation of a married cheat, and his hedonistic wife.

The first time someone watched. The feel of a tongue between my thighs...

I realise suddenly that this is a dream, and wake with a gasp.

It's very late, and very dark. I'm lying on my back in the fluffy bed in the cabin. I'm naked, and the tongue between my thighs is real. Ethan's tongue. I lift my head to see, and he's kneeling at the end of the bed, his lips and tongue caressing me thoroughly.

He notices my movement and lifts his own head for a moment. I can't really see him, but I can certainly feel him. I sigh contentedly and he lowers his head and continues.

I don't dream, or fall asleep again, but those same memories wander aimlessly through my head, slowly narrowing down until all I can see and feel is what's really happening.

Ethan focuses his efforts, and slips his tongue carefully across my clit, his fingers sliding deep inside me and thrusting gently as he laps up my juices.

I shudder just a little, and he picks up the pace. I can never last long when he does this. I'm suddenly near the end, my body thrusting against his caresses, my dripping pussy wanting just a little more, just a little faster.

Ethan can tell when the moment arrives, and I press hard against him, feeling the roughness of his face against me, the pressure of his tongue, the light caress of his lips, and the relentless thrust of his rigid fingers. I come with a rush that surprises me a little. A hammering climax that leaves me breathless for a moment, unable to do anything but release a groan from deep in my throat. I keep pulsing every time he moves just a little, and I both love and hate it right then.

My hands reach down and grab his head of hair, unable to ask, but wanting him up here with me. I want, no, need to return the favour, and the thing I most want right now is his cock in my mouth.

He crawls up with his knees either side of my quivering body, and I drag him further and further, until I have his ass in my hands, and his cock hovers, hard and ready, above my face.

It's not as though we haven't done this before, and I know we need to fix these angles a little to get this to work, so I prop myself up on a couple of pillows and shuffle forward, pulling him enough that I can lick the end of him.

I feel the tension, and lick the moisture. He's been hard for a while, I can tell. He won't be for much longer.

Lifting my head a little further I take him inside my mouth, while my right hand strokes up and down the length of him. If history is any indication, he's been rubbing himself down there at the end of the bed, and I'm just taking this to the next level.

His hot cock throbs with the touch, the softness amazing yet again over the hardness of him, and I love this power. My tongue washes around the head of him, and I hear him groan with need, and I suck him in a little more, my hand moving faster on the shaft.

I know he's really close. I'm surprised he didn't come by himself, despite our earlier efforts on the sofa. His shaft quivers expectantly and I decide not to draw this out any further.

Pulling him in just a little further I start to pump gently with my mouth, sucking and releasing him at an increasing pace. My hand rubs more energetically along the rest of the shaft, and as my other hand gently caresses his balls, it's all he can take, and he explodes in my mouth, groaning loudly as he shakes and pumps.

I've always had something of an aversion to this part. I love to suck them, but the end product doesn't always taste great. Ethan though, well somehow I like it, and I'm more than happy to have him and his come in my mouth, and I swallow as best I can while dealing with all the movement, loving the control, the power, the strength and the taste.

When he calms down a little he pulls himself gently off me, his cock tender and soft as he extracts himself from my clutches, and lies down heavily on the bed, kisses me sweetly, both of us tasting the other, and then falls asleep beside me.

---

The cabin has no way to hide from the dawn, and despite the frenzied fuck on the sofa, and the later oral adventure, I wake up before the sun rises above the surrounding hills.

I extract myself from the bed carefully, not wishing to wake Ethan, and wonder if I can get away with my usual morning routine.

Walking unsteadily to the toilet I sit and pee as quietly as I can, not self-conscious, but wanting to let him sleep. I choose not to flush afterwards, hoping the early morning smell is less obnoxious than the noisy plumbing.

I shuffle around in the drawers for a moment, finding and pulling on an old pair of favourite panties, head back the few feet to the bathroom, pull out some things, and run the water just a little, thinking all the while.

I've crossed the line, I realise. He does fit in the cabin, in my life, and in my heart. I glance over at the bed and want to tell him right away, but realise I can leave it, and when he asks me again, I'll tell him yes. Yes, I want him. Yes, I need him. Yes, if he really means it, I will marry him.

I love him so much, I realise suddenly. I always have. It's not just the sex.

I pad across the cool floor to the rear of the cabin, and quietly open the door before stepping outside onto the wooden deck, thoughts of life with Ethan in my mind.

I walk across the damp wooden slats to the far side of the deck, and stand there carelessly, my hair waving a little in the slight breeze, my nipples feeling the movement in the air, my breasts free in the early light.

The rear of the deck faces almost to the east, and as I meander there I see the sun beginning to peek out above the distant hills. I stand as the dawn washes over my skin, brushing my teeth outside, just wearing white panties with little red hearts.

Jul 2013
I really enjoyed this. Actually, I've enjoyed everything you've written that I've read so far. Please, keep writing.

Jul 2013
Its probably hard on you, but I have to say this is the standard you've led me to expect of you.(

Jul 2013
I enjoyed your tale very much. It has been quite a while since I have had an opportunity to read one of your stories. Glad to see you are still having a go at it.

Jul 2013
I really enjoyed the Story

Jul 2013
I really thought it was a great story. nothing in it I would change at all. it had perfect flow and I can see everything as its happening.

Jul 2013
lovely story so far, Now 80 yrs old but remembering that satisfied feeling as clear as it was in 1955

Jul 2013
Welcome back

Jul 2013
It's been a long time. :) I'm very happy to see that your still writing, and still writing well. I very much enjoyed Toothbrush.

Jul 2013
Sweet, comfortable, arousing, brings a smile...

Jul 2013
It has been quite a while, in fact toooo damn long! I was, have been afraid you would never surface again. You have no idea how much I have missed your work.

Jul 2013
This is a little different from your usual offering.

Jul 2013
It is amazing that you should send this to me at just this time.

Jul 2013
Very nice!

Jul 2013
It's been a while, and glad to see you are still writing. This was a great story, loved the main character and the setting. You did a fabulous job of describing both.

Jul 2013
It's a very nice story. I like this idea