The log cabin nestled in amongst ancient trees, half in the shadows, smoke drifting upwards through the gap in the canopy from the small brick chimney. Inside, she looked through her stack of half written stories. Which would she pick out to finish tonight? Which would she allow to transport her into another lifetime, another reality?
Her fingers stilled against a single sheet of paper, the words double spaced, the margins wide. Reading through, she picked up her pen and a clean sheet of paper then began writing. The silence in the woods her backdrop, the pen clicking slightly as the ink flowed around the balled point.
Geoff sat in his chair, staring morosely into the crackling fire as flames licked the inside of the charcoaled chimney. Agitated, he set the chair rocking, each forward motion causing a narrow whine to resonate through the room. One of the most loved pleasures of living in the log cabin was that they could both walk around naked day and night. They could watch the movements of their bodies. Geoff particularly enjoyed watching Sharon's heavy breasts bounce as she moved, and he loved watching her nether lips as she bent. And Sharon became enthralled with watching Geoff's cock harden and soften constantly throughout the day. The whine from the chair increased.
Realising she had read the last sentence three times, Sharon sighed, put her pen down, then went to Geoff. Kneeling before him on the floor, she reached up and fondled his ever available cock. Almost before she touched him, he began to harden. Her hand held him and stroked him firmly, just twice, just enough to stop him rocking in the chair, just enough to harden his cock and cause its head to dribble a little clear drop of sticky liquid, and just enough to make him smile. Finally.
