She waited in his car while he went to check them in, feeling a little nervous, but also like she was on some sort of exciting adventure. It was a beautiful day, and James-James! She was still having a hard time thinking of him as James-owned a little British roadster convertible, so they drove all the way with the top down. Every time he reached down to shift gears, his hand brushed her leg and it thrilled her. Maya had freed her hair, letting it whip in the wind, and now she tried to tame it again while she was waiting. It was a tangled mess.
It had seemed so clear to her, in that little booth, what she wanted, what they both wanted, but now that she was looking at the row of log cabins by the lake, which by all rights should have been the picture-perfect romantic spot, she wasn't so sure. He came back out to the car, hopping in and starting it up. He drove around the cabins, toward the lake, and stopped near one of the rows not facing the street.
“We're in the one on the end,” he said. “Still have a nice view, though, huh?”
“Beautiful…” She listened to the ticking of the engine, the lapping of the water on the shoreline, the sound of the birds in the trees above them. His hand moved over hers as it rested on her denim-clad thigh and she looked at it, not him. His hands were soft and looked like they would be gentle and his nails were neat and squared off, as if they had been manicured.
“We don't have to,” he said and she smiled, still looking at his hand, so large it nearly swallowed hers.
“I want to,” she replied, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. She couldn't read his expression. “Don't you?”
“Yes.” He slid his hand up her bare arm. There wasn't much of a gap to bridge between them-the car was small and the two bucket seats were very close. She could feel his breath, and he smelled like the beer they had been drinking in the bar not half an hour ago.
She wouldn't remember later who leaned in first, but they kissed there for the first time, their mouths doing a slow, tentative exploration together. He broke the kiss and she opened her eyes to see him looking at her as if he were trying to figure something out.
“Here, you take the key.” He held it out to her. It was attached to an orange rectangular tab with the number 110 on it. “I'm going to put the top up and I'll meet you inside.”
She nodded, leaving her backpack and feeling free as she hurried to the little cabin on the end. The key slid into the lock with a delightful click, and she turned it and stepped inside. It was the typical New England rustic decor, with bears on the comforter and fake (at least, she thought they were fake) moose antlers over the bed. She shut the door and went to the bathroom, washing her face and straightening her hair the best she could.
She heard him come in, and she found herself hesitating to go back out, staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed, and her whole body was tingling, like a limb that had gone to sleep and was just waking up.
What was happening seemed so out of character for both of them-it seemed too fantastic to be real. Was she really sitting in her Ancient History class right now, looking out the window, chewing on a pen cap, and dreaming all of this? Part of her thought that must be the case. When she opened the door, he was standing by the open window, looking out at the lake. He smiled at her and held out a hand. She took it, still marveling at his touch, and joined him. The sun was brilliant on the water as it rippled toward shore.
“Look.” He pointed toward the mallards that were paddling toward the reeds. As she watched, she saw a mother duck leading her little downy ducklings all in a row for a swim out on the lake.
She watched them in wonder, all too aware of James’ body, his hip against her hip, his hand moving around her waist. “I wonder which one is going to grow up to be a swan?”
He smiled down at her, his attention shifting, his eyes falling to her mouth. “This one.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her. This wasn't like the tentative kiss in the car. This one was full of passion and an eager longing that matched her own. She whimpered against his lips, seeking his center with her tongue.
He breathed her in-she could feel the expanding of his chest as he pulled her in tight, his hands seeking the bare skin of her back under her t-shirt. The bed seemed miles away as they kissed and touched their way towards it, peeling off clothes and exploring each other as they went. His mouth seemed to want to devour her and she met him like a lifetime of pent-up breath until they were gasping, collapsed, his body pressing her to the floor still five feet short of the bed.
Her t-shirt was pulled up, his jacket off, shirt unbuttoned, and they were pressed belly to belly, but it made the thickness of her jeans too much-she couldn't feel the heat of him like she wanted. Her fingers fumbled with the snap and zipper, wiggling out, and the writhing of her under him as she exposed her panties and bare thighs brought a growl from his throat that sent a shiver through her.
She toed her jeans the rest of the way off, wrapping her legs around him when they were free, digging her heels into his lower back and arching. He fumbled with the front hook of her bra and she brushed his hands away, impatient, rolling on top of him and sitting. His eyes were full of lust as he looked up at her peeling off her t-shirt, unhooking her bra and letting her breasts spill out into his hands as she leaned forward to kiss him, her mouth hungry.
She rocked her hips, her thin panties rubbing against the material of his trousers, the bite of his belt a shock as he grabbed her sides and slid her up so he could lick and suck at her nipples like a man who had never tasted flesh before. The eagerness of his mouth made her hips rock hard and she wanted more still. She slid up his belly and sat on his chest, pulling her panties aside to show him the red fuzz between her legs. The groan that elicited was so gratifying that she gave him a little more pink, spreading her lips open so she could rub her clit.
“Stand up,” he said, tugging at her panties. She did, letting him slide them down. She stepped out and spread her lips again for him, sliding first one and then two fingers into her wetness, watching his eyes as she slowly fingered herself. She could see his hand beginning to slide down between his own legs and heard the sound of his belt buckle.
“Ohhh, but I want to do that,” she murmured, turning around and sinking down on him, her thighs straddling his chest as she brushed his hand away, undoing his belt and unzipping him. She felt his fingers beginning to explore between her legs as she tugged down his trousers and boxers. His cock sprang free, seeming to aim directly toward her mouth, and she took him in, the whole length of him in one warm, wet swallow.
“Oh god!” he cried, plunging his fingers into her, finding deeper, wider places than she could reach herself. She spread her legs, grinding back against his hand, trying to get more of him into her. His cock was pulsing under her tongue, thrusting into her hand, asking for more, too.
His hands cupped the soft flesh of her inner thighs, running from her knees all the way up to where her legs met her pelvis, hooking his thumb and finger there on either side, the perfect handhold, like he was framing her soaking wet pussy. He lifted her, making her gasp as he slid her backward toward him, and she moaned when his fingers moved to open her up for his mouth, his tongue.
“Oh James,” she whispered, his name still thrilling and at the same time incredibly intimate in her mouth. “Oh yes!”
His tongue slipped deep into her and then he followed his tongue with his fingers, probing further while his mouth searched for her sweet spot. She hissed when he found it, forgetting about her mouth on his cock entirely, rubbing her cheek over the soft skin of his belly, then, too lost in the sensation to do anything but lazily stroke him with trembling fingers.
“Faster,” she begged him, wiggling more toward his mouth, arching her back. “Oh please.” He moaned at her words, his tongue making quick, darting movements over her clit, back and forth. Maya squeezed him harder, stroking him a little faster as she felt herself being carried away. She found herself rolling her hips, round and round, making his tongue do little circles.
“Yes,” she gasped, pulling the skin of his cock down tight, biting and licking at the skin of his belly. “Oh don't stop!”
He wrapped his arms around her hips in answer, pulling her fully down onto him, her knees spread out onto the floor, her pussy a slick, wet pulse against his mouth. She was moaning and twisting on him now, edging closer with every delicious sweep of his tongue. She couldn't take any more-her body was wound too tight, waiting to be sprung, everything centered on the little trigger between her legs that his tongue had found and refused to abandon.
“James!” she cried, and it came as a plea-for more, or for release, she didn't know which. He grunted, sliding his fingers deep into her as he licked her, moving them in and out now, pushing her forward onto him. Maya thought she would scream with pleasure and she took his cock into her mouth instead, moaning around the thick heat of him.
She felt herself slip over the edge, the point of no return, and she was falling, with him buried deep in her throat as she came, her mouth closing around his cock, matching the same fluttering rhythm as her pussy around his fingers. She kept him there, her body trembling and quivering against him, his cock like steel heat against her tongue, until she couldn't stand it any more.
“Wait,” she gasped, coming up for air, crawling off of him, her hair hanging to the floor as she turned around and collapsed next to him. She kissed him, tasting herself in his mouth, her juices glistening on his cheeks, down his chin. She swallowed the sweet, musky taste of herself, sucking it off his tongue.
She broke the kiss and, with a little smile, she started crawling toward the bed. Her legs didn't feel strong enough to walk. When she got to the edge, she looked over her shoulder at him, still laying there, his head twisted to watch her. Maya grabbed the comforter and pulled herself up, leaving her legs dangling over the side, spread open, resting her belly against the bed. It was a soft haven, and she still felt like she was floating.
She watched as he rolled over, getting up to crawl toward her. She could feel the air over her thighs, the wetness there, and then she felt the heat of his breath as he reached her. He kissed her thighs, working his way down to her knees, kissing and licking the backs of them, making her moan and sigh. He kissed each instep of her foot, flicking his tongue there, making her smile and squirm.
Maya put her feet on the floor, going up on her tiptoes and lifting her bottom in the air. She could see him when she looked down between her legs, his eyes shining, and she smiled at him. She didn't think she had ever seen that expression on his face before, and she wondered at it. His hands started at her ankles, moving their way up the smooth skin of her calves, the soft flesh of her thighs, over the rounded curve of her behind.
He stood behind her, and she could feel his cock like a fiery exclamation against her thigh. She reached between her legs for him, stroking him against her pussy, slow and easy. He moaned, his hands moving over her ass, her lower back, grabbing at her hips as she rubbed him up and down her slit.
James moved her hand, grasping his cock and pressing the thick, bulbous head between her lips. He grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him, onto him.
“Oh!” Maya cried, feeling the thick length of his cock slip into her.
He groaned as she wiggled back against him, still up on her tiptoes. The word from his lips thrilled her and she wanted to hear it again. She squeezed her pussy hard around his cock as she slipped forward a little, so he was almost out of her, squeezing and releasing just the tip of him. Then she tightened her muscles and slid back toward him, settling her behind against his pelvis with a push.
“Maya!” he cried, holding her hips still, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Jesus!”
“Come on,” she whispered, looking back at him through a tangle of fiery hair. She was squirming in his hands. “Come on, James. Fuck me.”
He groaned, driving forward into her hard enough to make her loose her foothold, sliding her across the bed. Maya gasped as he pressed his weight into her from behind, his cock buried into her as she lay spread-eagled before him. He pulled out until their bodies nearly lost contact, and then he began to fuck her, using just his hips in tight, shallow circles, spreading her thighs even further with his. It was a slow, easy grind, a delicious tease, and she found herself caught in it, spiraling upward.
Her hands against the comforter were pulling images of bears and deer into tangled fistfuls of material as he thrust into her, his cock still teasing, staying in the shallows, toying with her pussy until she was arching and moaning and bucking underneath him for more.
“Please,” she begged, her voice muffled as she bit at the material against her mouth, tugging at it with her teeth. “Oh please, please, please, James, god…!”
He seemed to know what she wanted, and he slid himself deep into her, so deep it almost hurt and she moaned low and loud, burying her face against the bed. Then he was teasing her again, the head of his cock working her pussy open, round and round.
“Oh please,” she cried. “Deeper. Oh, harder!”
He slid himself all the way in again, meeting her grinding hips with his. He stayed there for a minute, rocking, the tip of his cock massaging the deepest parts of her, and then he pulled out, as if he meant to tease her again, but this time thrust hard back in, all the way, and she could feel his balls slap against her when he did.
“Yes!” she whispered, meeting him. “Fuck me!”
He leaned into her for a moment, the weight of him crushing her, and she reveled in it. He bit at her shoulder, pulling her hair to the side and whispering in her ear, “Tell me again.”
She moaned and gasped, “Fuck me! Oh James, please, fuck me hard!”
“Yeah,” he growled, sitting back, sliding almost out, and using all his weight to come back into her. Maya moaned, arching her back. He grabbed her hips and lifted her to her knees in one swift motion, moving in and out of her pussy in long, hard strokes. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Yes,” she said, closing her eyes and feeling him filling her, again, again, again, the wet sound of them together coming faster now. “Oh, yes, yes yes!”
She opened herself up to him, let herself go completely, just letting him take her, his cock impaling her flesh over and over, driving her across the bed with every thrust. Maya wanted more of him, and she wiggled forward, grabbing his thrusting cock in her hand as it slid out of her slippery wetness.
She rolled beneath him, turning over and putting his cock back inside of her. He was propped over her now, thrusting again, his eyes closed. And still, she wanted more. She groped at him, pulling him down to her, wanting to feel the weight of him. She pressed her breasts against his chest, rolling her hips in circles as she wrapped herself around him, wanting him as deeply as he could go now.
His breath on her cheek was hot and labored, their bodies slippery together as they rocked, the delicious friction building between them. Maya began squeezing him again, pulling him deeper, and she heard him groan.
“Ahhh, I'm so close,” he warned against her ear, and she gripped him harder, using his shaft to tease her aching clit, working hard now. She couldn't stop. “Oh god! Maya!”
“Yes,” she whispered, licking at his ear, his throat, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. “Cum for me.”
He grunted at her words, driving forward hard and she could feel his body shuddering against her, every muscle tight and pulsing. Maya pressed up against him, belly to belly, feeling his quivering as she pushed herself over, grinding her clit against the base of his throbbing shaft.
“Ohhhhh!” she moaned, digging her nails into his back, wrapping her legs around him tight as she pitched and rolled underneath him, the sensation like a blinding white heat searing through her, again and again.
He rolled off of her, breathing hard, closing his eyes. Maya stared up at the ceiling, her eyes wandering down the wall, marveling at how the logs fit one another, tongue and groove, as she found his hand and squeezed. Outside, she could hear the ducks calling, and she smiled.
“Are you sorry?” James asked her.
She glanced over at him. His breath was returning to normal, but his eyes were still closed. “No,” she said, smiling back up at the ceiling. “Should I be?”
“Most of the time, the fantasy is always better than the reality,” he murmured, turning to look at her.
“Not this time,” she replied, putting her arm over him, fitting her cheek against his chest.
“Maybe there is a little romance left in the world,” he murmured, kissing her hair.
“It's always there,” she whispered, snuggling closer. “You just have to look.”